


Somnius

by bookslug



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookslug/pseuds/bookslug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wards on Privet Drive fall and Harry is thrown into a new world at Malfoy Manor full of lies, terror and Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kicking, damaging and scared

**Part 1: Severus**

When Harry Potter left the Dursleys, walked straight out with no apparent hesitation, leaving the wards that his mother had  _died_ for straining and useless; leaving everything everyone had done for him; and leaving safety, sanity and the chance to survive, he also left Severus Snape swaying where he stood. Barely a week into summer and already Potter was causing trouble. Snape's upper lip could only curl.

What had been neutral ground was now tainted with cruel words, dripped in torture. The trees themselves rustled with Death Eater anticipation of something greater than ever before. Dark Marks were attuned to the Dark Lord's feelings and such a giddy happiness could only mean one thing: the blood wards had fallen, and Harry Potter was theirs to take. 

Perhaps Potter had shown his usual surge of brattiness, so much so that the Dursleys had closed the door on him – or, less likely, it was an injustice by the Dursleys. Severus didn't care. All that mattered was that Potter had rejected their protection. Undeserving, ungrateful, a waste of his mother's sacrifice. Another in Potter's place, and Severus would not be in front of the Dark Lord right now, preparing to do his worst. But of course it was the black-haired, bespectacled child of James who held all their fates in his thoughtless hands.If he died now, what was  _her_  death for? Nothing. She may as well be alive, with him… Severus's fists clenched, and he didn't even have the clarity of mind to recognise the symptom of anger. Just that it hurt. 

"Severus," the Dark Lord said heavily, in a trustworthy, silky voice that reminded Severus of the first time he had bowed, kissed the hem of those robes that clothed such power, felt the brush of fear that every pair of Death Eater lips feels as they kiss with all their terrorised, beating hearts. And all of Severus's torn own. But now his heart took no part - it was owned by only one person.

Experience and intuition told Severus to indulge the Dark Lord's excitement and stand up after a shorter time than normal. That worked for him. He tasted acid rather than the sweet belonging of his teenage days. 

"The wards fell less than a minute ago. We must find him, Severus." 

The unasked question from the Dark Lord to Severus  _Where do you think he would go?_  (he didn't like directly asking for help).

Mrs. Figg's? The park? The Leaky Cauldron? Potter had just disobeyed the Dumbledore's most cherished instruction - keep _safe -_ so Snape couldn't imagine he would go anywhere near the Wizarding World.

"Diagon Alley or The Leaky Cauldron, my Lord."

"Then you shall search in Diagon Alley and the surrounding area," The Dark Lord then turned to his close circle of servants. "You shall cover London!" His eyes fell where Severus knew they would. "And Bellatrix, dear Bellatrix, you shall go to Privet Drive."

The lipstick was cracking as she smiled, oblivious to the murmured, thinly-veiled annoyance from the Death Eaters  - which soon turned into "My Lord's" at the Dark Lord's stinging glare, with a faint stir of relief that the Dark Lord was too fixed on Harry Potter and too weary of time to punish them (for now, at least).

Snape met the Dark Lord's gaze, whose lips lip curled, narrowing the slits of his eyes even further. The Dark Lord might feel the edge of threat when Severus met his eyes - but it could also resulted in the Dark Lord viewing Severus as strong and reliable. Perhaps, if the Dark Lord had been a better Legilimens and Snape a worse Occlumens, he would have found Snape's throbbing panic. Anger. Despair.

When the Dark Lord stopped probing his mind, Severus's relief was as strong as the first time he had hoodwinked the Dark Lord. How many times could one (usually unlucky) man dodge death?The Dark Lord had barely skimmed the surface of Snape's thoughts, quick in the excitement of being so close to killing Harry Potter...

About that, had the he not noticed a pattern? Perhaps this time there would be less of the less of the grand speeches and more of the  _killing_  thing-

"And now my Death Eaters…"

Apparently not.

"The time has come for me to rise and Harry Potter to fall."

The rustlings of Death Eaters stilled; all eyes were on their Lord. There was a tightness in them, the same kind that a cat gets before it jumps. The speech ended more quickly than Snape had predicted, too quickly- 

"Go!" 

As one, the Death Eaters spun on the spot. Severus too. When he landed, it was with more dizziness than apparition would give him alone. He stilled himself on the nearest wall. He had done the wrong thing, under pressure he had done the wrong thing... Instead of ensuring that it would be he that would find Potter, he had made it that he'd be sent to the last place Potter would be - Diagon Alley.

Not that Severus had followed the Dark Lord's orders, not that he was in Diagon Alley. Not now, not with this at stake. Not again.

Privet Drive. It was quiet, but Severus placed a Disillusionment charm on himself. Bellatrix was roaming.

Number Four was ablaze, every window that Snape could see had its light on. At odds with the lifeless, dark neighbourhood. The Dursleys were panicking.

Snape craned his neck to see the uppermost branches of the tree Potter had used to escape the dog. The shadowy branch he had clung onto. At least his relatives had tried to teach him some sense of humility, feeling the whip of laughter _at_  rather than with him...

Well, Potter wasn't here. It had only a few minutes since the wards had fallen according to the Dark Lord. _How_ exactly he knew that wasn't clear but Dumbledore, ever more the seer than Trelawny, had warned of as much. How far could unresourceful Potter possibly get in such a short amount of time?

Snape's eyes glinted as he walked, searching from hiding place to hiding place, up trees and around corners, raking every shadow. None of the places were likely, but since when did likely apply to Potter? Everything about the neighbourhood reminded him of the vile primness of Petunia. That woman who hated anything different; Potter and her must get on-

Then, he stopped. He was outisde Arabella Figg's house. He had found what he was looking for and it was slumped, darkened by bruises and shadows in the doorway. Eyes open. Severus could see green.

Severus never ran; no situation warranted such an impulsive action, one that barely saved time, exhausted energy and limited thinking, reeked of desperation. Yet, his legs were moving, he no longer had any control and he was running.

"Potter!"

Mind, rearing.

A wild animal.

Kicking, damaging and scared.

On his knees, one hand on Potter's shoulder.  Deep breaths through gritted teeth. He was deflating, and he could pinpoint no emotion other than panic. 

_Think, Severus. Who are you? Some Hufflepuff nitwit? The practicalities first._

Snape heard her before he saw: Bellatrix running towards him, loud breaths and light, almost silent steps. Her whirling dress and wand at almost amusing odds with the Muggle neighbourhood around her. Though Snape's wand was in his hand, casting a spell wouldn't help. Bellatrix would cast one faster, given she wasn't weighed down by Harry Potter, and then his attack would be proof that Severus was betraying the Dark Lord.

Severus could call the Dark Lord -give Potter to him, making it trickier to rescue him but making it easier for Snape to stay alive, continue as spy. 

It was Lily's voice that made him decide what to do next, the same that had accepted Severus when no one else had, when even he could not. But the words were different. Rather than telling him how she would lose Severus if he continued on the same path, she told him how she would lose Harry. Severus had already lost Lily her beloved husband. Severus had already lost Lily her own life. The least he could do was keep the only part of Lily left alive.

_For me_ , she had said when she had asked Severus to look after James's son, her son. Asked With Gryffindor bravery, and perhaps a little Slytherin cunning.  _For me, Severus…_

_For her,_ Snape lifted Potter. Though he was hardly one to judge how heavy fifteen year old boys should feel, the load seemed lighter than even Potter's small stature should account for. Side-long apparition with an unconscious passenger was never a good idea, but it didn't appear that Severus had much choice...  This risked Bellatrix spelling him first…but, if it worked, potentially saving Potter's life.  _Which is your job, is it not?_

And why was he not spinning yet?

_For her_  he spun-

A spell, bright red, rushed through the darkness towards him. His legs buckled, Potter still in his arms, and gravel grazed his cheek, Bellatrix's steps reverberating in his ear. Severus clutched onto Potter's wrist as he raised his head.

Bellatrix pressed her hand to her Mark with a grin - and the Dark Lord appeared in Little Whinging, gleaming with pleasure and looking just out of place like Bellatrix. He grabbed Potter's arm, then spun himself away with his prize. Bellatrix did the same to Snape, first leaning down and whispering in his ear with the delicate voice of a small woman. A rose with thorns.

"I always knew… You are a  _traitor_. And _I_  will be his most loved servant. The reason he captured both Severus Snape and Harry Potter!"

Severus stood, his loss tingling but he was not one to wallow: he exhaled empty air once, before deciding to let Bellatrix continue to hold him and whirl them both to the Dark Lord. Though he had vaguely flirted with apparating to Dumbledore, his priority was to keep Lily's son alive. 

Where did it all go wrong?

As Snape had always known, it had and would always be when Harry Potter got involved.


	2. a snake silently survives

The Dark Lord stood over Snape, who lay on the floor looking up through a blur – of tears? Pain? Sheer terror? He felt broken but he had not yet broke. It was not an option to admit working for Dumbledore. This way, taking the pain, was better. It would save lives, end the war more quickly, keep Lily's son safe… All those impossibly good things… Snape rarely worked on slim chances, but it was all he had.

Severus's cover story was that he had been trying to move Potter to a more private place by foot, where the Dark Lord could arrive with no chance of the Order capturing him. The spin was just the way he moved…

_And, why, Severus did you not go to Diagon Alley as I asked?_

"I couldn't find him. Then it...dawned on me...where he would be..."

Weaker than some of Gryffindor homework excuses (countless owls that had a taste for parchment. Pathetic.)

The tale, weak that it was, was being picked to shreds, and then those shreds ground to a dust which Severus tried to gather through trembling fingers. Bellatrix didn't help, adding lies upon lies as she got more excited.

_He stroked the boy's hair…_

_He told me to stay away or he would call Dumbledore…_

_He called you by your name…_

Severus lay on the floor in Malfoy Manor, gazing up at the overly-elaborate ceiling with its sickening chandeliers. Paintings glared from the walls. Snape was almost glad that his blood stained the green rug.

All for Potter. The boy had been dragged to another room slumped between two Death Eaters like a rag doll, head silently bobbing to the beat of an occasional groan. It only took a soft thud of the door for Severus and Potter to be separated. Potter may have a fighting spirit, but spirits needed energy.

Around Snape was a prison of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord paced in it, revelling in the power Snape lacked, listing so many holes in Snape's stories that stitching it back together made Severus dizzy.

Snape's mouth filled with blood and he swallowed. "I had to keep up appearances in front of Potter."

"Lies!" screamed Bellatrix, the only bright-lipped figure within the subdued circle of Death Eaters, her love for the Dark Lord, for Severus's demise, apparently over-taking any concern for her own well-being

"Bellatrix," said Severus, but as he shook his head he thought he might black out again. "I have explained my reasoning for lifting Potter outside Arabella Figg's house. However foolish it was -as my Lord has reminded me - it was in what I thought were His interests. Don't you remember our conversation at Spinner's end?"

Bellatrix, apparently, still had no understanding of self-preservation and broke forward once more.

"Don't patronise me! Of course I do. But my Lord, he dodged questions, made-up answers… If he had his own way, he would have lifted Potter and apparated him to the Order! Snape has fooled you!"

The Dark Lord snarled. "Do you doubt my judgement?"

"N-no, of course not, my Lord. I would never-"

"Enough, Bellatrix," said the Dark Lord. Though whispered, it was as domineering as a shout.

Severus could tell from the Dark Lord's narrowed eyes locked onto Bellatrix's wide ones that he was in her mind. Of course, showing her visions of her childhood, those wounds and crazes that lead to her joining him - the best torture was personalised. And Bellatrix's was particularly colourful, with days which made her freeze like a bolt of lightning. 

When the Dark Lord broke the connection, Bellatrix screamed, so loud and sudden that it was like a sneeze that had been held back and then finally broken free – for there was no breath to make noise. Clever, simple, ruthless.

The Dark Lord looked at her a little longer, before turning back to Snape, who took his cue to speak. Though he wished he was at a more powerful vantage point, the Dark Lord's anger at such an autonomous action (more than his own shaky legs) made him stick to the floor.

"If I had my way, my Lord" said Snape, awkwardly tilting his head to the Dark Lord. "Potter would been killed long ago. The fiasco at the Ministry would never have happened."

Not even torture could take away from the enjoyment of tormenting Bellatrix and Lucius.

"You are correct abut the ministry," said the Dark Lord, each word carrying the weight of a potential killing curse. "But my thoughts are centred on you now. Are you the same little boy I saved from his cruel father? The one who was _so_ loyal."

Legilimency had told the Dark Lord the crevasses of Severus's heart. The Dark Lord filled them - not with human flesh, but a cruel, unchangeable metal. So simple, so easy it had been. Just take Severus in his arms, fold him into his cloak tight and give him the first hug he had ever received, tell him that with his new family Severus could bear to look in the mirror without feeling sick, could trust someone to care for him, and his very being wouldn't be ripped apart (for could it tear any more?) but actually welded together. Into a new man.

Whatever indignity the Dark Lord forced Severus to suffer, whatever deep – painfully secret, shameful – part of his mind he penetrated, Lily's place was kept safe, protected by some force of Snape's that he didn't understand but embraced. Never did the Dark Lord see the woman Severus loved;  the fact had shifted inside him, but not enough for him to apparate away from the prison when the doors were still open.

Though Snape's tongue was leaden, his voice came out strongly enough.

"I am. I am the same boy that respects and loves you beyond all others" he said, choking slightly due to disgust with the words rather the blood clogging his throat. Though Severus could tell the Dark Lord thought it was the latter from the gleam in his gaze. Severus raised a steady hand to wipe some blood from his eyes as he did so, to distract himself, to make the situation even a little bit more comfortable, to convince himself as much as the Dark Lord that he had control. "But now I'm a man. And can act on it too."

"The same lying traitor, you mean, Snape!" screeched Bellatrix, from a position in the circle Snape could not see. "My Lord, Snape looked almost…fond of Potter! Any true Death Eater would want Potter in the centre of the circle being tortured for information. For the sheer pleasure of seeing him suffer!"

"Then he shall suffer," said the Dark Lord. "And we shall see if Severus enjoys it."

It was so quick, so unexpected, that Severus almost let out a noise - but his mind was too well-trained, too fearful, too interested in its own survival to do so. Too interested in Potter's survival. The boy in question was brought in from a side door by the same two Death Eaters; the Dark Lord must have planned the conversation to be steered toward this even though it felt like it had been Severus's doing.

From his position on the floor, Severus could only crane his neck with no energy to lift it off the ground. Just to see the reactions of the other Death Eaters. Even in the Dark Lord's presence, emotions slip through. Wide eyes, slightly open mouths and the murmur of confusion…Potter was in an even worse way than before.

The circle broke, boots shifted out of the way to allow space for beaten and muddy muggle trainers, which were larger than the feet they held. They lifted slightly as if they could not support their own weight. And then, dropped, thudding to the floor: then knees, then hands too. The enemy of the Dark Lord.

Harry Potter was lying next to him, those ridiculous glasses gone, eyes screwed shut. Stinking of sweat, of the outdoors, mud and rain. The green rug, hard underneath them both, was stained with Potter's blood as well as Snape's now.

"Prove you are still mine, Severus."

It was moving too fast... Though what amount of time could make doing as the Dark Lord asked tolerable?

Severus pushed but his elbows buckled beneath him, his own weight so excruciating he had to bite down on his lip to stop crying out. The third time he tried, he got up, the world tilting, blurring and never quite settling - but there, at least. And he felt more powerful. No Death Eater was taller than Severus, the Dark Lord himself an inch shorter and, though height was hardly synonymous to power, symbols mattered.

The boy was below him now, still sprawled on the ground. It was hard to believe it was Harry Potter. His raised head showed his bruised, bloody face to everyone. In layers. What had happened before the Death Eaters got to him?

"Potter…You have the eyes of the snake," said Snape quietly. "You may be able to wriggle out of punishment at school Potter, but here there is nowhere for you to go. No Headmaster to slither to…."

Severus's reference to Potter's visions – the snake – was met with an oblivious, open gaze. His clue to occlude, forget his anger and mould that unfathomably brick-like mind into something with flexible was ignored. To be expected: Snape hadn't raised his hopes around Potter's subtlety. Though the Dark Lord wasn't going to Legilimise Potter now - given the pain He had experienced at the Ministry – torture was only survivable with some control over your mind. Mental prowess can dodge any punch physicality can throw.

"Snake, indeed," said the Dark Lord, walking forward to stand by Potter's head, hem of his robe resting on Potter's black hair until Potter flinched it away. "He is perhaps more Slytherin than we gave him credit for, Severus."

"What do you mean, my Lord?" asked Severus, barely able to stand.

"His relatives left us so little to work with."

Snape thought back to Potter, small and skinny. To Potter, climbing up a tree chased by a dog. To Potter, jealous of his cousin's bicycle.

"Surely it was simply Potter partaking in uncivilised muggle fights?"

To Potter lying on Arabella Figg's porch, no muggle in sight, bloody and bruised.

To Petunia, hating magic.

To Lily.

"I would have thought the signs would have been obvious to you, Severus."

Potter, in front of him now, eyes still on Severus's own, shaking his head almost imperceptibly: no, it's not muggle fights or no, it's not abuse? Unclear, but Potter was trying to secretly communicate something, even now trusting that Severus worked for Dumbledore. Latching onto Snape, like Snape had latched onto…

The Dark Lord shook his head. "Do you really believe that the blood wards would have failed after a few muggle fights, Severus?"

Snape felt an unquenchable fury, his heart rate increase and his breaths sharpen. The Dark Lord beside him was too emerged in Potter's torture to notice.

"The muggles did this?" asked Snape, eventually.

The Dark Lord looked from Potter to Snape. "So similar to you at that age, Severus."

A cracked voice then, like a whip. It echoed. "I'm nothing like Snape!"

The Dark Lord looked at Potter in gentle, faked surprise, eyes glinting as if he had found a jewel – then crouched down so intimately that it was like only they were in the room.

"You know, Harry, that only a snake silently survives such uncouth abuse. From muggles to a wizard no less. A lion roars, but you didn't. No, you coiled around it." The Dark Lord stood up. "This changes things."

The sorting hat, telling Potter he would do well in Slytherin…

Snape stared down at Potter, the room swaying even more.

"No!" shouted Potter. "It was a muggle fight!"

A half of the Dark Lord's mouth curled, but Snape's heart was too hot for his mind to consider the odd warmth in the smile (smile?)…"Oh, I do believe that," said the Dark Lord.

"With boys! With Dudley!"

Potter was lying. Snape needed no dominance over the mind magics to know so: it was all over hisface - in his rapidly blinking eyes, the shaking of his head, the upper lip that quivered. So clear that it was hard to believe he had missed it.

All these years.

Surely not.

"Do not defend them," said the Dark Lord. "Do not defend what they did to a great Wizard. Your blood should never have been spilled."

Potter stood up then. Beneath him, his legs shook more than even Severus's had, but he looked the Dark Lord in the eye with an unaffected gaze.

"Don't you pretend you think spilling my blood is a bad thing.Q Apparently Potter had accepted that no one believed his previous lie. "Don't pretend you care."

"I do care. If it has turned you into such a delicious Slytherin."

"I am not a-"

" _Severus_."

Snape knew what he must do. Potter's conditioning was starting if owning Potter was indeed what the Dark Lord wanted. How long this new desire of the Dark Lord's would last was unpredictable but if it meant keeping Potter alive for longer, Snape would indulge. Whatever it cost him.

" _Crucio_."

Even if that meant casting of an Unforgivable on a child, his student no less. What was more Unforgivable? Casting the curse or having his role as a spy destroyed? Life, in a form, or death? It was not much of a choice. It was not a choice at all. Though Severus was practical, realistic; he knew a third option was either worse or fantasy.

So Severus's let loose his hate for James, for Tobias, for everything he had ever been crushed by …Yet, the curse was still hard to cast. He wasn't casting simple pain, but unrelenting pain. After it had ended, it lived on in the quiet moments of everyday life, in your mind, in nightmares, forever.

Potter writhed on the floor, splitting open cuts, mouth wide, screams piercing, eyes flashing and reflecting golden chandeliers, the red of Severus's magic… Severus lowered his wand, gaze returning to the Dark Lord, but the Dark Lord was looking at Potter.

The Dark Lord gave no time for Potter to recover. "Why did the wards fail, then, if it was not the Dursleys who hurt you?"

Potter was breathing hard but Snape could not look at him in case he appeared concerned, so he watched the Dark Lord's flicking tongue instead, curling as it drew Potter in with poisonous words. Though he found that that hardly helped, with Potter writhing in the periphery of Severus's vision.

Potter must have shaken his head in a refusal to answer – of course: "Do not make me punish you again, Harry-"

"I don't know, okay!" said Potter. "But it was not them h-hitting me. They've been doing that for five years and nothing-"

Potter stopped as if he'd said too much. Snape supposed he had.

"I see," said the Dark Lord, after a few moments, then turned to Severus. "It is your job as spy to found out why the wards failed…The point stands though that Harry Potter can slither, for five years in fact. But I am still not sure whether I can trust you, Severus. If you are mine, how did you fool Potter? I saw in his mind last year that he never suspected you." The Dark Lord turned to look down at Potter. "Do you trust him now, Harry?"

"Any self-respecting human being wouldn't cast a Cruciatus," said Potter, words as certain as anything could be from his crushed position on the floor.

"I'll take that as a no," said the Dark Lord, and looked back at Snape.

"My Lord! Time and time again, Snape has put himself in doubt," said Bellatrix, her speech running over itself in panic.

Bellatrix had stepped further into the middle of the circle again. The centre became a ridiculously complex game of lies and accusations, layer on layer. Every person thought he knew it all apart from, perhaps, Potter. 

"I suggest that we don't go around repeat conversations," said Severus, showing the first hint of impatience since the conversation had begun. It felt good to hunt, rather than be hunted, take his frustrations out on Bellatrix and no longer look at Potter. "Rather dull for all of us. I'm happy to answer your questions, but do not waste my time. The Dark Lord is the greatest Legilimens the world has ever seen and didn't suspect me all these years of invading my mind, questioning me, probing me…Until you crawled along. Why are you so special?"

Snape's mouth curled into mocking smile of pride and smugness, which he did not really feel. He was exhausted from the constant Cruciatus he had endured before Potter had been brought in and the pressure – more than ever – of what catastrophe a slip of the tongue might bring. And tongues were so slippery. Even Snape's. The Dark Lord's questions were always hard but now his suspicions were solely on Severus and the weight of his immense power was crushing.

The Dark Lord was strangely silent, regarding Severus and occasionally Bellatrix, then, lightly fingering his wand. He stepped so close that Severus could feel the heat of his flesh and blood. Flesh and blood. That was, perhaps, what kept Severus going through the edges of his mind being penetrated once more. Severus showed the Dark Lord the true memory of him lifting Potter, but instead of feelings of love for Lily, he filled it with feelings of hate for James. A lie built on truth is the strongest lie of all.

Snape was glad now of Bellatrix's impulsive behaviour, her lie about Severus touching Potter's hair; it incriminated her.

The Dark Lord withdrew from Severus's mind; there was a moment before he spoke.

"How I enjoy seeing my children fight," said the Dark Lord softly. "It shows how much they love me... And though I love them too, a good father does not shy from punishment." The Dark Lord flicked his wand. " _Crucio_."

The Dark Lord believed him.

With him, Bellatrix writhed on the floor – and it was that which made the twenty third cruciatus that night survivable. Almost worth it – if it were not for Potter's eyes on his own, which Snape could nto shut off though his hould be screwed up in pain. If they could speak now, what would they say?

Through the last throbs of pain, the Dark Lord spoke.

"As the only one with medical training, Severus, take care for the boy- so I can charm the snake to speak."

The art of caring for others was not in the interests of a Death Eater. It had not been in Severus's interests, either - but he had had reason to care for his own injuries from a young age.

"You are mine Severus, I know it. Yes, I see you are still that loyal little boy. Now make Harry Potter functional."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


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